Can I Be Him
by The Other Side of E
Summary: "Wow, man, your school days must've been rough." Steve gave him a long look from head to toe. "Though you look like you're handy in a fight, so maybe not." "Yeah, handy," Bucky snorted, remembering his black-ops days. Steve's grin widened and a twinkle came to his eyes. "I bet," he purred. Singer!Steve/Fan!Bucky AU
1. Can I Be Him

Steve is a up-and-coming singer and Bucky is a very enthusiastic fan. Familiar faces are in this, but no powers.

Has this Musician!Steve AU been done before? Probably? I don't know, but here you go.  
This was inspired by the song _Can I Be Him_ by James Arthur but it's not a songfic. Or at least this is what I'd wish more songfics were like. You'll see what I mean.

Can I Be Him

James "Bucky" Barnes didn't want to be here. He'd just gotten off shift at the fire station and he was dead tired. Natasha Romanoff, his best friend, had dragged him out here to this overcrowded venue because her friend bailed on her at the last minute and she had nonrefundable tickets.

He didn't know the band they were here to see but Nat said she'd pay for his beer so he was game. The beer, as it turned out, was better than he expected. Not the watered down crap you usually get at these things. The lights dimmed and the crowd started to settle down. He had to admit they had fairly decent seats, mid stage on the floor, only five rows back. He shuddered to think what she'd paid for them.

Soft music started from the backup band and a lone man took the stage, but Bucky wasn't really paying attention. The women in the audience started to get restless again. The guy made it to the microphone and then the lights came up.

As soon as he started singing Bucky's eyes snapped to him. What he saw was not what he was expecting, this guy looked like he belonged on the July pages of a firefighter's calendar. He was filling out his shirt and pants like he was mad at them. His voice was deep and melodic and Bucky got lost for a minute.

Bucky side-glanced at Natasha, "Is this the band?" his voice creaked oddly.

She shook her red curls wildly. "Nah, this is the warm-up. They'll be after him. She clapped as the man on stage finished his first song.

The singer ran his finger through his short blond hair unnescisarilly. "Welcome everyone, I'm Steve Rogers and we're glad you could all be here tonight. Stark Raving Mad," -the crowd went wild at the band's name- Steve smiled bigger, "will be out here in a minute. How about we pick things up a bit?"

The crowd flew with him as the cords rose up, but it was the words of the song that Bucky was stuck on. It reminded him of a time when he was growing up. Before his stint in the army, before the nightmares. Bucky was breathless and transported.

The next song wasn't much better on his poor gay heart, it showcased the singer's sultry and sexy side. Bucky was squirming in place as he listened. If this guy was here to "warm up" the crowd he was doing a damn good job.

Far too soon for the firefighter's liking Steve had to relinquish the stage. Bucky whistled and clapped as hard if not harder than the others around him.

Nat leaned in to whisper-yell in his ear. "He was good, wasn't he?" Bucky nodded a silent yes and his friend gave him a look of appraisal.

* * *

Bucky didn't remember much more of the concert, the main act was a little too loud, and a little too techno, for his liking. At the end Nat wanted to wade through the press of people to get autographs from the band, but Bucky wandered off.

He ended up in a much smaller crowd, mostly made up of women, around Steve Roger's table. Finally, after most, if not all, the women left, he made it up to the front and picked up one of the albums. He was torn between wanting to talk to the man and the intense nerves he felt about being around anyone he found this attractive. He was still debating when a voice broke into his musings.

"I'm glad you liked my music. This your first time?" Steve was smiling at him with an open look.

Bucky went into a mild state of panic and he was sure he was fully red. He opened his mouth but quickly shut it because he knew whatever was going to come out wasn't going to be coherent words.

Steve chuckled and slipped the album out from his trembling fingers. "Who do I make this out to?"

God, his eyes were so blue he thought the whole universe resided in them. Words! He had to respond. 'Soldier up, Barnes!' he chided himself. "James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky."

Steve looked at him with curiosity. "Bucky? How do you get Bucky from James?" He leaned over the disc to sign it.

"Um, no. It's from my middle name, Buchanan."

Steve handed him back the album with a big smile. Bucky offered him money but he waved it away. "James Buchanan? Like the 15th president? Wow, man, school must've been rough."

He knew who James Buchanan was? Oh, God. What do they say nowadays? Smart is the new sexy? Always was, in his opinion.

Steve gave him a long look from head to toe. "Though you look like you're handy in a fight, so maybe not."

"Yeah, handy," he snorted, remembering his black-ops days. Then he realized what that sounded like out of context and he flushed a shade darker.

Steve's grin widened and a twinkle came to his eyes. "I bet," his voice had dropped low to a purr.

Bucky was gone.

Their eyes held longer than was strictly decent but neither was willing to look away. Soon enough Bucky caught sight of red curls bouncing his way, he was never so happy to see his best friend. He shoved the album into his pocket and turned to go. "Love your music," he tossed over his shoulder as he practically ran from the table.

* * *

Nat slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow as they stepped out into the cool night air. "So, did you have a good time?"

Bucky gripped the album in his pocket a little tighter. "Yeah."

Natasha looked triumphant and nodded her head.

* * *

In the next few months Bucky skipped over being a casual fan and went straight to sell-my-soul-to-the-fandom status. He purchased every single album that Steve had ever made. He soaked in the words to every song, he felt it was as if they were written just for him.

He ended up following the singer on all social media, he even found his real Facebook account. He discovered that Steve was bisexual, which explained the flirting, but he was also currently seeing someone, a guy named Sam Wilson. Bucky could admit they were a cute couple. He wanted to be happy for them but he couldn't shake how much he wanted Steve for himself. Admittedly, he never was much of a saint.

Bucky could see his actions bordered on stalking but he knew he'd never do anything to hurt Steve. To that end he took it upon himself to defend the man any chance he got. Under the screen-name WinterSoldier he tirelessly defended the man, his music, and his relationship. He did it with calmness and rationality, diffusing arguments and pointing to only _official_ press releases. Many fans tried to find out who WinterSoldier was but Bucky hid himself well.

* * *

Steve was relaxing on the couch, in the apartment he shared with his boyfriend. He sighed as he went over yet another blog about his latest album.

"What ya readin', babe?" Sam's smiling voice startled him from across the room.

Steve glanced up at him and smiled. "A fan article about me."

The dark eyed man chuckled and leaned over to give his boyfriend a kiss on the temple. "Why do you do that to yourself? You know they write that crap for the shock value and page views."

Steve shook his head. "This WinterSoldier is different. It's like she really gets my music, you know?"

Sam leaned over his back taking the tablet from his hands. The singer weakly protested then pouted when he didn't get it back. Sam winked at him before reading the article.

As he went through it he was more and more surprised at how insightful the writer was. Steve was right, this person really knew what they were talking about. He was impressed. "This guy has quite the hard-on for you. Not a bad article, though," he handed the tablet back.

"Guy? How do you know it's a guy?" Steve frowned as he looked back at the words on the screen.

Sam gave him a one shoulder shrug. "Pretty sure a woman wouldn't call herself the Winter _Soldier_ , but it's just a hunch."

"WinterSoldier is a guy?" Steve whispered quietly.

Sam cocked an eyebrow and a hip. "Should I be jealous?" He was half joking as he watched his boyfriend's face.

Steve immediately set the pad down and stood. He took Sam into his arms and held him close. "No," he said softly. "I'm all yours."

The two smiled at each other, then met in a deep kiss.

* * *

Another three months later and Steve was touring again, alone and for much smaller venues this time. Bucky was ecstatic, he was coming back to a town nearby to sing at a club. The firefighter made sure he had that day off and a ticket reserved.

The day came and he spent most of it anxious and pent up, just waiting for the time to go see Steve. He showered and dressed ridiculously early but he couldn't help himself. He made it into the city in record time, telling himself he did it so he could get a good parking place.

Because it was a club their wasn't a restriction on when he could go in as long as he had a ticket. He had reserved a table at the corner of the stage, so, right then, had a front row view for the backup band setting up. Bucky felt like his head was on a swivel as he watched all entrances for any sign of Steve. When he finally caught sight of the singer he almost wished he hadn't.

The door to the kitchen had swung wide and he'd gotten a glimpse of the man. He was obviously on the phone with someone and he looked miserable. He was hunched over, with one arm wrapped tightly as if to give himself a hug. Bucky almost got up and went to him before he remembered that they really didn't know each other. He had heard rumors lately that Steve's relationship was on the rocks. He wasn't sure how much he believed the rumors but Mr. Wilson _had_ been seen more frequently in the company of another man.

Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap. Seeing Steve hurting wasn't doing great things to his insides. He wanted to hold him until the pain faded and he could see that bright smile again.

A waiter came and took his order, bourbon straight, he couldn't think about food now. He knew it probably wasn't wise to drink on an empty stomach but he couldn't care less at the moment.

Several agonizing minutes later Bucky was on his second drink and the lights dimmed so the set could start. The firefighter's eyes never left Steve as he took the small stage. He only barely registered the applause of the people who had filled the space.

Steve put on a good facade but Bucky could see the weariness on him. The songs he chose, though upbeat were melancholy in tone. Bucky's heart broke for the man, he was obviously in pain. The show lasted only an hour and a half but for Bucky it was an eternity. All he wanted to do is wrap the blond in a fluffy blanket and press a warm mug of cocoa into his hands.

The people started to thin out and the band took down their equipment. Bucky lingered, there wasn't a meet 'n greet planned but he had to see Steve again. The club had all but cleared out, and sighing defeat, Bucky went to the bar to close his tab.

There sitting on a stool hunched over a gin and tonic was the singer himself. Bucky froze, should he approach? Would he be welcome or just be intruding. He could see Steve's pained expression from the profile view he had. Finally the desire to be of help outweighed his fear of being a burden.

He stepped closer and swallowed the large lump in his throat. "Mr. Rogers?" he asked tentatively.

Steve tried to hide a sniffle but he put on the brightest smile he could manage at the moment. "Please, call me Steve. Do you want an auto-" at that point he turned to see who had spoke. "Wait, we've met before."

The look of concern on Bucky's face was brushed away by surprise.

Steve looked to be concentrating. "James Buchanan, Bucky. Am I right?" Some of the lines around his eyes faded.

Bucky nodded, he couldn't believe this god of a man remembered him! His heart tightened in his chest. "Are you alright?" Steve made a face at his question and Bucky blanched. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude. You just really looked like you could use a friend to talk to."

Steve's face crumpled some more. "I could, yes." He motioned to the stool next to him.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked as he slipped onto the seat.

Steve really must have needed to talk because over the next hour and a half he told how Sam had become more and more distant. The singer had heard the rumors that Sam was secretly seeing T'Challa, but he had no proof other than his inattentiveness and absenteeism.

"Tonight was the last straw. We'd made plans to take the weekend off together, our schedules don't always coincide, and we'd booked a short trip. He was going to meet me here after the show and we were gonna go." He rubbed his face and laughed without humor. "He canceled the trip without telling me and when I called him to ask about it he said 'something had come up'. Thing is, I could hear talking and glasses clinking in the background, he was out somewhere."

Bucky burned with indignation for this man. How could anyone treat him this way?

"Well, I gotta hand it to him, T'Challa's handsome. Not that I blame him really for brushing me off, the guy's said to be African royalty. How can I possibly compete with that?" Steve said deprecatingly.

"Steve, no," Bucky was quick to cut him off there. "You are worth everything, if he can't see that then it's his loss."

Steve's blue eyes were fixed on his folded hands which were resting on the bar. "Thanks, I mean it. I know you didn't come here tonight to hear me vent my woes."

Bucky shook his head. "No thanks needed."

Steve lifted his eyes to regard him silently for a minute. Bucky's heart rate shot up at the look in those eyes. Steve slipped his hand over Bucky's, and the firefighter couldn't breath as Steve leaned closer.

At the last moment before their lips touched Bucky pressed a hand to the other man's chest to stop him. He was momentarily distracted by the sheer muscle he felt under the cotton shirt. "You shouldn't," he choked out in a soft whisper.

Steve remained where he was and his breath tickled the other man's lips. Finally he sighed and moved away. "I suppose you're right." Both of them removed their hands from the other. "It was presumptuous of me anyway. I don't even know if I'm your type."

Bucky's eyes widened. "No, that wasn't – I just think you have some things to talk to Sam about. You need to clear the air between the two of you. Maybe it _wasn't_ what you thought. Talk to him."

Steve nodded. "Thanks," his voice was small but sure.

Bucky glanced at his watch, it was really late and he had a mid-day shift in the morning. "I have to go. Are you going to be alright?"

Steve took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "Yeah, no worries. But please, can we keep all this between us?"

"Of course! I'd never betray a confidence, I'm like a priest that way." His eyes widened, his mouth got away from him again. "Not that I'm a priest! Because I'm not!"

Steve laughed for the first time that night. "I didn't think you were." He sobered, "I owe you pal."

Bucky's eyes softened. "You owe me nothing. This has been my honor." He slipped from the stool just as Steve turned, effectively putting him between the man's knees.

Bucky knew, this very well could be the last time they saw each other. He swallowed and took a chance as he crowded the singer on his stool. "As to the topic of your desirability; if things were not so complicated with you right now I would've taken you to my apartment and you would not have been able to walk for a week." He knew he'd made his point when he saw a lovely blush cover Steve's cheeks. Bucky picked up one of his hands and slowly kissed the man's knuckles as he maintained eye-contact.

Steve's eyes widened and his blush deepened.

Bucky was transcendentally giddy. "See you around, Steve," his voice husked out.

Steve swallowed several times. "B-Bucky," he said with a nod.

The former soldier smirked and swaggered out of the bar, knowing his Steve was watching him the whole way.

* * *

Bucky couldn't sleep, he was too keyed up. Thoughts of Steve swirled around and around in his he gave up and decided to work his feelings out on paper.

* * *

Four days later a letter showed up at Steve's apartment. He was home briefly to grab some things and rest before his next gig. The singer had no shortage of mail waiting for him but this particular envelope caught his eye. The address was hand written with no return address.

He got fan-mail all the time but never at his home, it always went through his record label now. He was intrigued, and a little bit frightened, on how this person got his home address.

He opened it carefully, not knowing what to expect. What he found was a hand written letter. Who writes letters any more? This person must be a true romantic. He started reading.

 _Dearest, Mr. Rogers,_

 _Steve,_

 _I'm sure that you get a million letters like this in a week but I want to assure you my sentiments are genuine. Of course, you probably hear that a lot too. I won't spout Shakespeare, or quote Jane Austin, but... I must tell you how much I ardently admire and love you._

 _(Oops. Well, one out of two.)_

Steve chuckled. "I got that reference," he mumbled to himself.

 _Since the first day I saw you, the first moment I heard your voice, I felt as if we were connected. I swear that every word of every song you wrote, you wrote them for me. The last time I came to see you it was like I was having my own private show, where you sang only for me._

 _I heard that things have been rough for you lately and I don't want to add to your burdens, but know, if you were mine I'd never let anyone hurt you, physically or emotionally. I want to dry your eyes and kiss your lips. It's all I've been thinking about. Can I be him? The guy you turn to after a long day, the one who you talk about in all your songs?_

 _I know, how this sounds. Believe me I know, but I just wanted you to know there is someone out here who loves you. I want nothing more than for you to be happy and loved. Please keep smiling and please, please keep singing._

 _~Your Him_

Steve was so moved he had to sit down in the breakfast nook. It was true he got a lot of fan-mail, mostly polite and respectful, though there were some wedding proposals. Those were mostly from women, but some guys as well. Two things all those had in common was 1) a sense of desperation, and 2) all of the people signed them with their names.

This was different, this guy didn't want acclaim or anything in return, all he wanted was to let him know how much he was loved. He couldn't remember when he'd last felt like this.

The image of Bucky flashed into his head and he shuddered. He rubbed the knuckles Bucky had kissed. He had seen something in his steel-blue eyes when he'd kissed him. Something more than the lust of a fan.

Could this letter be from Bucky? He had very little to go on. Something in him wished it was from the dark haired man. He wished it very much.

As he was reading it again someone entered the apartment. Steve looked up and met Sam's copper eyes. Sam froze then slowly started forward again, forcing a smile onto his face. "I didn't know you'd be home, babe."

Steve schooled his features and only hummed a reply.

"Hey, sorry again about last weekend. I really was looking forward to our trip together." Sam leaned his hands on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. For his part he truly looked remorseful.

Steve watched his face for a moment. He could see it now, Sam was hiding from him, he'd never done that before. "Are you happy with him, Sam?" his voice was small but even.

Sam looked like he was on the verge of panic for a minute. "What're you talking about?" he forced out a chuckle. "I'm happy with you." He sounded less certain than his words conveyed.

Steve stood quickly, startling his boyfriend. "Please don't lie to me. We've never lied to each other before, and we shouldn't start now."

"What, exactly, do you think I'm lying about?" he got defensive.

"Are you seeing T'Challa or not?" Sam looked like he was debating denying it for a minute, and that was all the answer Steve needed. "I see."

Sam broke. "It's not like that, baby." He tried to take the singer into his arms but Steve brushed him off.

He wasn't having it. "How long have you been going behind my back?" He hurt so much right now.

Sam gave him a pained look. "We met a couple of months ago..."

Steve exploded, "A couple months!" He brushed past the other man and stormed into the living room.

Sam followed. "We didn't mean for this to happen, at least I didn't. At first we just hung out as friends, that was it. But then I..." his voice trailed off.

Steve gave him a sharp look. "You what?"

Sam seemed to shrink in on himself. "I fell hard, alright? I didn't mean for it to happen, but he just swept me off my feet. I felt like I could fly when I was with him."

Steve grit his teeth to keep the tears at bay. He was frustrated, mad, and sad all at once. He clutched at his chest to distract from the pain.

Sam rushed on, as if saying the words fast would reduce their sting. "We have only been a couple for three weeks. I tried several times to work up the courage to tell you." He rubbed his head in frustration. "I'm a shitty boyfriend."

Steve snorted his agreement.

Sam gave him a soft look. "I love you, Steve, I really do. When we were good, we were great. But I think this has been coming longer than T'Challa's been in the picture. We were too comfortable together. We aren't what the other needs." He swallowed hard. "It may be cliché of me to say, but it's me not you."

Steve glared at him. He wanted to say something but Sam wouldn't let him.

"You are an awesome guy, just because you weren't the right guy for _me_ doesn't mean your right person isn't out there," he gestured towards the bay windows. "I know you, Steve, you're going to blame yourself for all this. If you never listen to another thing I say again I want you to hear this; this was _not_ your fault."

Steve bit his lip at he stared at his soon to be ex-boyfriend. He pulled the shorter man closer and rested their foreheads together. They stood that way for several minutes as they clung to each other and felt the other breathe.

"I will miss you, birdie," Steve said at length.

Sam smiled at the nickname and it showed in his tone of voice. "I'll miss you too, you great big Golden Retriever."

They chuckled and released each other. All was not forgiven yet, but they were on the road. It was agreed that Sam would take what he could in a bag now and then come back for the rest later. It was surprising to both of them how little he ended up having here. He would just return the key when he was done.

Steve told him he trusted him, and Sam called him a naive softy, but it was said with love. While Sam was in the bedroom packing Steve stayed in the living room. He couldn't watch.

Sam came out and set his duffle bag on a chair. "Well, I guess this is goodbye for now." He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "I don't want it to be forever, though. You're still one of my best friends. I'll understand if you need some time, though."

Steve nodded his agreement as he stared at the rug. Finally he'd composed himself enough and he was able to look the other man in the eye. "I love you, Sam," he said in a distinctly watery voice.

Sam cupped that heroic jawline with a warm hand. "Best of luck, Steve." He lifted to his toes to place a kiss at the corner of Steve's mouth. It was lingering and a little sad, and it made the blond close his eyes to the rush of emotion.

Sam released him with a sigh. He grabbed his duffle off the chair, tossing it over his shoulder, as he headed to the door.

Steve brushed a tear from his cheek. "So a prince, huh? I guess that's alright. I couldn't let you go to anyone less." He smiled, trying to lighten his tone.

Sam turned briefly to shoot him a finger gun. "A king, actually."

Steve's grin grew. "Does that make you a Queen?" He could hear Sam's laughter until the door closed behind him.

Steve stared at the wall for several minutes, his brain empty but working too hard at the same time. He sighed heavily and started walking around the apartment in a daze. He picked up things here and there, tidying up. He made it back to the kitchen and saw the pile of mail, he then remembered the letter. He picked it up delicately and traced the handwriting with his finger.

At least someone loved him.

He choked as the tears he'd been holding back for far too long came punching out of him.

* * *

Bucky was beside himself with worry. On Steve's official website several of his recent appearances had been canceled or rescheduled, the only explanation they were stating was "personal reasons". They did mention that more would be said later but Bucky doubted it.

God, he wished he could be with him right now! Whatever the issue was he wanted to help. He suspected things had come to a head with Sam and he feared the outcome. Had they broken up, or worse, did they reconcile and were taking time to be together? On darker days he wondered if they had become violent with each other and Steve was really in the hospital.

He tried pouring himself into work so as not to think about it. He was only partially successful, the blond was always in the back of his mind.

Weeks went by and Bucky was once again scouring the internet for any news on Steve when an alert popped up for his video channel. He quickly clicked it, his hands shaking. It was Steve, he'd posted a new video.

He looked tired but happy and Bucky's heart leaped to his throat to see his face again. He bit his lip and pressed play, half dreading what he'd see/hear.

"I want to thank my fans for their patience these last couple of weeks. I know many of you were concerned, and for that I'm sorry. Your words online have touched me deeply." He paused to take a deep breath. "Now, as to the reason I took some time away. As you may or may not have heard, after many wonderful years together Sam and I decided to end our relationship."

Bucky let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His gut clenched.

"I want to stress to all my loyal followers that this was a mutual and amicable split. I don't want there to be any hate aimed at Sam for this. We came to this decision together."

Steve smiled and Bucky was relieved to see it was full and genuine.

"While this was happening I received a letter that really put everything into perspective for me."

The singer chuckled lightly on the video and Bucky felt lifted. God, he loved this man.

"As an apology and a thank you to you all, I want to sing a new song I just wrote." Steve nodded to someone off-camera and soft piano music started playing.

Steve's voice filled Bucky's headphones with his slow, deep tones. Almost immediately Bucky recognized the phrases, he was shocked to hear his own words flow out of the song. Steve had written his letter into the song almost verbatim.

The singer put his heart into singing the words and Bucky hoped it was an indication he returned the sentiments. By the time the last note was sung tears were streaming down the firefighter's face. He touched the image of the blond on the screen. "Steve," he choked out.

When the song was done Steve smiled at the camera. "Thank you all for your continued support." The image froze on his smiling face with links at the bottom to his revised appearance schedule.

Bucky closed the tab and sat back in his chair. His letter. Steve, the man he was in love with, had written a song based on _his_ letter. He put a hand to his chest to feel his heart beating right out of it. This was unbelievable.

He was pretty sure he could die happy now.

* * *

Steve was having trouble tracking down the writer of the letter. He could make out the postmark so he had an idea of the area, but still, it could be anybody. Fortunately it was a relatively small town, and if there was one universal constant in every small town, it was that most everyone knew each other.

He had just wrapped up his most recent tour and had some free time before his next album dropped so he drove to the town himself. He was nervous for several reasons, not the least of these was that he'd actually find this guy.

If Sam were there he would say he was being an ideological, overly romantic dumbass. He couldn't refute that, this guy could be a mass murderer. But would a murderer write so beautifully, or make it so difficult to find him? Okay, even he could see the flaw in his logic.

He had to try, there was something gripping about the letter. It was honest, raw, and vulnerable. Truthfully he needed someone right now who saw him as special. He needed to see if he could feel that for him as well.

He pulled up outside the post office at just about closing. It was the middle of the week so there were very few people around. He inquired inside the office but they were unable to help him. The Postmaster recognized him, and though he wanted to help, their security videos only went back a month. Steve thanked them for their trouble and stepped back outside. It had been a long-shot to begin with but he couldn't help the sense of loss and disappointment he felt at the news.

He was standing there contemplating what to do next when he noticed an elderly woman staring at him. She had curly silver hair which framed her face, and he could tell at one time she must have been quite the looker. She appeared to be in her 80's but still stood strong without a cane or walker. "Hello," he said politely.

She smiled and walked over to him with no hesitation at all in her gait. "Margret Sousa, but everybody calls me Peggy," she said in a British accent, she extended her hand and he shook it.

She had a surprisingly strong grip for a woman of her years. "Very nice to meet you, ma'am."

She glared at him. "Don't 'ma'am' me." She examined him for a moment. "Don't I know you?"

He smiled and shook his head. "I don't believe we've ever met." He met loads of people on tour but he was pretty sure he would've remembered her, she wasn't in the typical age bracket which attended his concerts.

Her warm chocolate eyes lit up with realization. "Oh, I know who you are, you're that singer. Stan Evans, or something like that."

Steve cocked a lopsided grin. "Close enough."

She tapped her temple with her finger. "Never forget a face, and I've seen yours a time or two."

He had to bite his tongue to keep the words 'but names seem to elude you' from rolling off. Instead he opted for the more polite; "Do you listen to my music?"

She shook her head. "Heavens no! I'm more of a death metal fan myself."

He gaped at her and she smiled, patting his cheek. "I wasn't always so old you know."

After a brief recovery period he resumed the topic at hand. "So how do you know me?"

She smiled brightly. "Lieutenant Barnes, he's a friend of mine, and he's gaga over your stuff." She eyed him up and down. "Not that I blame him, you are quite the sight, and if you sing half as good as you look than I might become a fan myself." She winked at him.

Steve's ears pinked considerably. The name Barnes tickled a memory but it was just out of his grasp.

"What brings a big time singer like you to our little town?"

"I'm looking for someone, but I've hit a dead end," he said with some sadness. She listened carefully as he laid out the story for her, leaving out that he hoped this man still loved him.

She shook her head. "Young people now a days give up too easily. Do you have the letter, and may I read it?"

He nodded and pulled it out of his pocket, unfolding it carefully. With some trepidation he handed it to her. She read silently as he sweated bullets next to her. He had the letter memorized by now and he tried to determine where she was in her reading. Her face was like stone and he couldn't interpret a thing from her.

She folded the paper delicately and handed it back. Her voice had gone soft when she spoke once more, "I'm so happy for you young people, when I was growing up it wasn't safe to carry a letter such as that. I never had the inclination to look at another girl but I had a friend that did. She had to hide who she was and that slowly killed her." She stared off into the distance, lost to a memory.

She roused a minute later and smiled up at him again. "That is one powerful letter, and to bring you all the way here, you must think so too." She thought for a moment like she was considering something. "I think you should talk to the lieutenant," she stated with finality.

He was surprised in her change in mood. "Your friend? Why?"

She looped her hand into his elbow. "He is the head of your local fan-base, he might have a clue as to who wrote that." She looked around them. "Where are you parked?"

Steve took her directions as they drove through town, she gave interesting tidbits about locations as they went. Steve really liked her quirky humor and straight-forward attitude. Finally she told him to pull over and park.

They got out of the car and he looked around, they were right next to the fire station and several businesses. It was a charming street. "Does your friend work around here?"

She smiled coyly. "Yes. Could you wait here while I speak to him first?"

He nodded his agreement. "Of course." He was surprised when she turned and went into the fire station. "Wait, I don't want to disturb him if he's on duty," he tried to stop her but she was already gone. She could move pretty fast for an old lady.

* * *

Peggy made her way to the offices where she knew Bucky would be. It was about time for his shift to be over and she knew he'd be rushing to finish his paperwork. When she saw his dark head bent over the desk she smiled, he was so predictable.

"Mrs. Sousa," another voice got her attention. Clint Barton stepped around the corner carrying a wrench and a grease rag.

"Hello, Clint. How many times must I insist you call me Peggy?" she asked with a smile.

He grinned widely. "At least once more." He dropped a quick kiss to her cheek.

"Peggy, what a nice surprise. What brings you here?" Bucky joined them, having finished his paperwork. He swooped in for a hug which she readily returned. He was wearing the standard navy blue shirt and dark pants, he also had his hair pulled into a low ponytail per regulations.

"So many handsome boys here, how could I not come and visit?" The three of them laughed.

Bucky placed a hand on his hip. "Do you want to join me for dinner? I'm just heading out."

She straightened his collar and patted him on the chest. "No, dear-heart. You have other plans for this evening."

He exchanged a puzzled glance with Clint. "What are you talking about? What plans?"

She smiled softly. "You are the most romantic boy I have met in years and you deserve the best, even if you don't think you do. Yet, today I met someone who rivaled even you in romanticism. He was looking for the person who wrote him a letter." She gave him a meaningful look.

Bucky blanched. "What?" he squeaked. Was this happening? This couldn't be happening!

She smiled, her suspicions confirmed. "When he showed me the letter I immediately recognized your handwriting. But the words, oh James, the words. You're not just a fan are you?"

His cheeks had tinted a darker pink. "Where is he?" he asked in a small voice.

"He's out front," she said with equal softness.

Bucky looked towards the door. He was torn between going out there or running away and never looking back. "Does he know?" He knew Peggy, and he knew she wouldn't have made the singer wait outside without good reason.

She shook her head. "It wasn't my place to tell him, it would be best from you." She squeezed his arm. "Go on, love, he's waiting for you. He just doesn't know it yet."

He gave her a weak smile. His insides were twisting around on themselves, he was going to be sick. Bravely he put one foot in front of the other and headed to the door.

As they watched him go Clint was still confused. "So, he wrote someone a letter? Who writes letters anymore?"

Peggy rolled her eyes. "If you ever want to be successful wooing Natasha you should start taking lessons from that boy on how to be romantic." She hit him hard on the chest.

Clint winced and rubbed the hurt spot. "What did I do?"

She threw up her hands. "Nothing! Obviously."

Clint pouted. "So, do you want to go spy on them?"

She grinned wickedly. "Of course."

* * *

Bucky paused in the shadow of the garage door and peaked out. Steve was facing the other way, his hip leaned against the car, his arms crossed. Bucky nearly came unglued. The man was wearing khaki pants and a blue plaid button-up, the sleeves were rolled up showing off his ridiculously toned arms. This guy should be arrested for public indecency he looked so good.

"Soldier up, Barnes," he whispered to himself and stepped out. Steve saw him right away but it took a minute before recognition hit him.

"Bucky," he said with surprise and delight. "You live here? Wait, you're a firefighter?"

God, this man was too cute for words. "Guilty on both counts." His smile grew fond. "It's good to see you, Steve."

Steve blushed despite himself. "It's good to see you too." He thought for a moment. "The last time I saw you was at that club, remember?"

Did he remember? What kind of question was that? It just happened to be one of the greatest nights of his life. "Yeah, I remember."

Steve nodded, "That had to be 30 or 40 miles from here. Did you drive all that way just to see me?"

Bucky shrugged one shoulder. "I'd drive further but that was the closest venue," he said matter of factly. Did he not know what lengths fans would go through for an artist they liked? From the awed look on his face he guessed not. "What brings you here, is a better question."

A light came on in Steve's eyes. "A lady named Peggy wanted me to meet her friend, a Lieutenant Barnes." Bucky cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms, Steve closed his eyes. "You're Barnes. I remember now. James Buchanan Barnes. I'm dumb."

Bucky chuckled. "You are not dumb. So, she said there was something I could help you with?" he prompted. He wasn't really sure he should be doing this.

Steve nodded and pulled out the letter. "Someone in this area wrote me this great letter and she thought you might know who." He held the piece of paper up to Bucky but the man didn't take it. When he looked up he saw steel-blue eyes staring back at him.

Bucky never looked away, maintaining their eye-contact as he started speaking. "Since the first day I saw you, the first moment I heard your voice, I felt as if we were connected. I swear that every word of every song you wrote, you wrote them for me. The last time I came to see you it was like I was having my own private show, where you sang only for me."  
"If you were mine I'd never let anyone hurt you, physically or emotionally. I want to dry your eyes and kiss your lips. It's all I've been thinking about. Can I be him? The guy you turn to after a long day, the one who you talk about in all your songs?"

As he spoke Steve's mouth dropped open. "You're my Him? _You_ wrote the letter?"

Bucky nodded. "I am, I just want you to know that what I wrote there, well, every word is true." He saw Steve look down, fold the paper, and put it in his pocket. "I can understand if you're disappointed, I don't want anything from you. I wont pester you."

Steve looked at him with determination. "I would very much like to kiss you right now. Will you allow me this time?"

Bucky was flabbergasted. "What?" He must have lost his mind, did the man of his dreams just ask to kiss him?

Steve cupped Bucky's face in his hands, he rubbed his thumbs under his eyes reverently. "I think I'd very much like to take you on a date and find out everything I can about you, but for right now I would like to kiss you."

Bucky couldn't feel his knees. All he could do was nod as Steve crowded against him. His hands came up to steady himself on Steve's waist. Several things went through his head at once, what did he have for lunch and would it cause stink-breath, damn did Steve smell good, but foremost was; STEVE IS GOING TO KISS ME!

The blond's eyes shut as he brushed their lips together. They both started this off slow but it didn't stay that way long. Their was a fire, a hunger that raged through them at the others touch. Soon there was teeth and tongues, hot breath and soft noises.

Far beneath all that was the feeling of coming home, warm blankets and cozy fires, long talks and the feeling of rightness. The broken men had found their missing piece. They had found their HIM.

End

.

I own nothing from Marvel, the Pride and Prejudice quote, or any of James Arthur's music. Please don't sue me. I just have a lot of feels right now, okay?

I don't want to be cliché or anything and tell you to go listen to the song which inspired this drivel, but... GO LISTEN TO THE SONG!

Did you enjoy the egg hunt. Sorry about that (not sorry). Hope all your bleeding hearts are bandaged. 'Till next time.


	2. Bonus

I was inspired to write a bit more but it sort of bumped up the rating. I'm sure you're all sad about that. NOT!

Bonus

A month passed and Steve was laying in bed staring at a slightly crumpled piece of paper, now framed and sitting on his nightstand. "I have a confession to make."

There was a moan from somewhere in the bed at his side. He peaked under the covers to see his sleepy boyfriend using him as a cuddle pillow. He brushed long stands of hair off his face so he could see him better. "Are you listening to me, Buck?"

There was a another groan and said boyfriend buried his face into Steve's chest. "It's entirely too early," his voice was thick with sleep. "God, why did I have to fall for a morning person?"

Steve chuckled and Bucky loved the sound under his ear, he pretty much loved everything about his boyfriend. Especially that he could call him his boyfriend.

Since that wonderful day outside the fire station they'd been inseparable. Since Steve didn't have to return to work right away he found a house on the edge of town and bought it so he could be near while they got to know each other. He loved spoiling Bucky and the brunet basked in all the attention.

Word went around town that the local boy had found himself a sugar daddy and Steve roared with laughter when he heard. Bucky was appalled and embarrassed but after a day or two he would call Steve 'daddy' to tease him and watch his pupils blow wide with lust. Yeah, that one stayed between them after that.

They had talked about the living situation, since they spent so much time together, and decided Bucky would give up his apartment and move into the house with Steve. If their relationship didn't work out Bucky would get the house free and clear. He called it his consolation prize, Steve called it a gift to remember him by. Ridiculous sap.

Three days ago he moved and they'd been settling in ever since. Bucky found it remarkably easy adjusting to living with Steve after so many years of bachelorhood. It was as if they'd always known each other.

And now here he was, trying to comprehend words before coffee. He pushed himself up slightly to sit against the headboard but still didn't open his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? First we get the coffee, then we do the things. _Especially_ the talking."

Steve chuckled again and leaned over to give him a slow sensual kiss. That was playing dirty, he had a weakness for Steve kisses. "Bastard," he said when they parted, but he did have his eyes open now. Dirty rotten Steve. "Yes, and what do you feel compelled to get off your gorgeous chest this early in the morning?"

"For one thing it's eight 'o clock," Steve said with a grin which only gained him a grumpy mumble from his partner, "And for another this has been weighing on me for a while."

That got Bucky's attention and he sat a little straighter, but kept close so their shoulders and legs were touching. Steve had gone silent and he was staring at his hands which were picking at the blanket in his lap. Bucky nudged Steve to prompt him. "So, tell your priest your confession." He didn't get the laugh he was going for but the blond did smile briefly and slap his chest, so that was something.

"When I first read the letter I'd just had that conversation with you at the bar and I was still feeling a little vulnerable. You made me feel so special and when I read those words I imagined you saying them to me. I wanted the writer to be you."

Bucky thought about that for a moment. "Whereas I think that's incredibly sweet, I don't understand why you felt the need to confess it?"

Steve looked at him with remorseful eyes and balled his fists in the blanket. "Well, I was still with Sam then, true we were having problems, but I don't want you to think I make a habit of unfaithfulness..."

Bucky cut off his ramble with a kiss. Steve squeaked in surprise but that was quickly turned to a moan under the firefighter's ministrations. When they finished and had regained their breath Bucky spoke. "You're cute. I loved that that weighed on you enough that you felt the need to "confess" it. For the record, you are the biggest boy scout I've ever met, you'd never be able to pull off a deception like that for long. I would know just by the way you'd look at me." He snuggled up to him, and stroked his cheek, feeling his early morning stubble. "Besides, you are far too loyal."

Steve melted under that loving gaze. He pulled the other man in for another series of kisses. His heart was so light, this man understood him so well, he was so lucky.

Finally Steve had to get up to use the bathroom so Bucky reached for his laptop. He usually updated his blog on Sundays but he didn't have anything prepared yet, he needed to type something up.

Steve came back and slipped back under the covers. He loved watching Bucky work, he was always so focused whenever he did something. He had greatly enjoyed that focus turned on _him_ a time or two as well.

This time he actually looked at the screen to see what he was working on. "You run a fan blog about me?" he asked in surprise.

Bucky hummed. "Yeah, it's pretty popular, but don't worry, I don't mention our relationship. I only comment on official material, songs, or concerts."

Steve's eyebrows rose. "How long have you been doing that?"

Bucky shrugged but continued typing. "You remember the concert when we first met, the one where you asked about my name?"

Steve nodded, but since the other man wasn't looking he also responded. "Yes, of course. You were pretty memorable."

Bucky's fingers paused and he looked at him. " _I_ was memorable? I was a stuttering dork."

Steve smiled. "You were the hottest thing to approach my table that night. With your scruffy beard and tight jeans."

Bucky blushed. "Well, sex-on-two-legs, that night was memorable for me too. I immediately went home and started looking you up. As I got more involved I wanted to squash down the haters so I started my blog." He gestured to the screen.

Steve looked once more and that was when he noticed most all of the articles on his page were written by WinterSoldier. His eyes lit up at the recognition. "Oh, I love WinterSoldier! Sam and I, well, mostly me, used to read her articles all the time. Very thoughtfully written. Sam said it was a guy but I was never sure about that."

It was only when his ramble was done did he notice that Bucky had gone completely still beside him. He looked at his face to see a very strange expression there. "What?"

"I love you!" Bucky blurted.

"What?" Steve asked again in surprise.

Bucky shook his head. " _I'm_ WinterSoldier!"

It was comical how wide Steve's eyes opened, Bucky was sure they were going to fall right out of his head.

Full realization hit Steve like a wave, he laughed and bounced like a little kid. He jumped up to his knees to face his boyfriend wearing the biggest grin on his face. "Wait here!" he practically shouted. He leaned in an gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Don't move!"

"Wha– Steve!" Bucky cried out as the blond ran from the room.

When he came back a second later he was holding one hand behind his back. "I was going to do this tonight at the restaurant, but I fucking can't wait any longer." His voice was decidedly more breathless than it had been.

Bucky's heart rate shot up. "Steve, what are you doing?" his voice was whisper quiet now too. He set his laptop on the nightstand.

Steve crawled onto the bed to kneel in front of him. "We had been dating for only a week when a realization hit me. I've been told that there was that one person out there who was perfect for me, well, I realized you were him. It took me a little longer to get things together." He pulled his arm around front holding a ring box.

Bucky looked at the box then up to Steve. He was speechless, they'd only been dating a month! Did he really want this?

"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, will you marry me and consent to be my husband?" Steve opened the box revealing a platinum band with a red ruby set in the center, Steve knew Bucky's favorite color was red. The stone was set within the band so that it was flush with the surface, it was also cut into the shape of a star.

Bucky choked on emotion as he looked between the gorgeous ring and the gorgeous man holding it. "You want me on a permanent basis? But I'm just a firefighter from a small town, I've got issues and scars, how could you want me?"

Steve pulled the ring out of the box and took Bucky's hand in his. "I want to spend the rest of my life waking up to hear you grumble about the mornings and see the light in your eyes when I kiss you. You are wonderful and special and I will tell you that every day until you believe it." He slipped the ring on his finger.

Bucky had to swallow several times around the giant boulder in his throat. He hadn't even realized he was crying until Steve kissed him and brushed the wet tracks across his cheek.

"Well, Buck? Will you be my _him_?"

He nodded frantically. "Yes," he croaked. They kissed again trying to convey all the love they had for the other.

Steve settled into Bucky's lap as they continued to explore each other's mouths. Bucky loved the warm heavy solidness of Steve. He was almost solid muscle but he was unbelievably soft to the touch. Well, there was one part that was rapidly becoming less soft as they went.

Steve loved the contrasts of Bucky, he came off as gruff and dower but he was the biggest-hearted romantic he knew. He loved the scruff of his beard, the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, he could spend all day wrapped up in this man.

The blond rocked his hips forward and the two men groaned. "Bucky," the word was whimpered out as their kiss picked up in intensity.

Bucky got a firm grip on his fiance's(!) narrow hips and pulled him down a little deeper. He felt so right as he lifted his hips to meet him. They soon set a pace, neither caring they were still wearing their boxers. In fact the cloth provided the right amount of friction and sooner than expected they were both tumbling over the edge.

Steve slumped against Bucky's heaving chest as he caught his own breath. "That was..." he struggled to form words.

"Quick?" Bucky supplied helpfully.

Both men chuckled but Steve shook his head. "Intense, beautiful, perfect."

Bucky's smile softened. "Yeah," he agreed.

They sat there basking in the after glow and savoring each other. Bucky stared at the ring on his hand, partly in disbelief and partly in sheer joy. Steve couldn't have been happier, he'd never felt this with anyone else he'd ever been with. They both knew this was going to last.

"Why a star?" Bucky asked as he admired it.

Steve leaned back and took his hand again. "My birthday is on July fourth and you are my shining star. It seemed to fit."

Bucky shook his head with a chuckle. "You're a incoragable sap, you know that?"

Steve tapped him on the nose. "But I'm your sap. Until the end of the line."

Bucky pulled him in for a long slow kiss. "Yes you are," he said when they broke for breath again.

Eventually they knew they had to get up and take a shower. Their boxers were beginning to feel gross. Steve got up and stretched, inadvertently showing off his fantastic back to the man still on the bed.

"Hm, this is a nice view," Bucky cocked his head to the side as his eyes traveled up and down the blond.

Steve smirked and threw him a wink. "Well, are you coming?"

Bucky grabbed himself. "I might be. Maybe you should go first. If I join you we might not make it to dinner tonight."

Steve turned back around and stretched out his hand. "But I'd be lost without my blogger."

Bucky's eyes widened. "You just did not!" He leaped out of the bed tearing after a whooping singer.

* * *

There you go. Hope you enjoyed.

This was supposed to be a short tidbit but it grew to almost a chapter. I have no control over these things. By the way, I don't own the Sherlock quote either.


End file.
